


Little Random Fluctuation

by flawedamythyst



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Similarly, another famous little quantum fluctuation that programs you is the exact configuration of your DNA.</i> - Seth Lloyd</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Random Fluctuation

The longer they lived together, the more time Sherlock spent trying to understand what it was about John that made him stand out from all the other mindless idiots. On the face of it, John was really a very ordinary man – a touch more appetite for danger than most, perhaps, but Sherlock had met men with that trait before and yet never found himself so fascinated.

He spent his idle hours observing John, trying to learn every tiny nuance of his personality, then lay awake in the dark for several long nights, four nicotine patches on his arm, making endless lists of John's qualities and then discarding them as commonplace. None of them came close to explaining why Sherlock had yet to grow bored of his presence, or the warm feeling that arose in the pit of his stomach whenever John smiled at him.

He was close to desperation when he stole John's toothbrush and extracted his DNA, constructing a complete chromosome map from it. There was nothing there either though, no special chromosome that made John stand out from everyone else.

The map was oddly beautiful. Sherlock stared at it for a long time, then set it as his screensaver. He watched it when he'd reached an impasse on a problem and it sharpened the focus of his mind; he let his eyes wander along the lines of it when he felt himself falling into one of his black moods and it calmed the darker impulses of his mind.

John caught him at it one quiet afternoon.

“Is that a DNA map?” he asked, one hand resting on Sherlock's shoulder as he stood behind him. “Let me guess, some infamous criminal and you're trying to deduce the root of his evil.”

“Not even close,” replied Sherlock, acutely aware of the weight of John's hand on his shoulder and wondering how long it would be left there.

“Ah, then it's yours, Mr. Narcissist,” guessed John. “Trying to find the word 'brilliant' encoded in it?”

Sherlock didn't reply to that, unwilling to admit the truth. No doubt stealing your flatmate's DNA in order to profile it was against the rules of 'normal'. They both watched the delicate lines oscillate on the screen for a while, John's hand still lying on Sherlock's shoulder and his body so close that Sherlock would only have had to move his head back two inches to rest it on John's stomach. There was a faint tingling in his scalp, another uncontrollable physical reaction that he couldn't explain.

Perhaps some things couldn't be analysed, thought Sherlock, and he should just let them be.


End file.
